Double edged sword
by Lee majors come again
Summary: Challenge accepted. A short series of tales documenting the journey of Ophelia and Raki as they attempt to slaughter Clare and Priscilla. Complete with reversed rolls, plot twists, bleak hopelessness, and my lazy work ethic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Claymore.

Chapter 1: Seven year's

**A/N: **So I saw this thing on here about a story with Raki and Ophelia after lurking hardcore. I'm taking a hiatus on my other story, mainly cause I want to do something other than a lovee-dovee tale about an estranged relationship tainted by the involvement of other parties, but also cause this is cool. I'm going to experiment with various elements, but shy away from love and relationships. More closer to horror or pain and the likes. I'm debating on whether or not I should make it Raki centric or Ophelia centric. So yeah, suggestions would be nice, cause I came into this wanting to do something different but not knowing what I wanted. Either way, hope you enjoy my junk!

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"Dammit Raki! Cut the bitch's head off, we went over this!" Ophelia screamed through the gurgling of her own blood.

The man, now a well built fortress of muscle and an offsetting void of feelings, stood battered and conflicted. His sword was readied to land the decisive blow on his former friend, Clare. She was barely alive however she could still see him brooding over her broken body. He was the only one who could even use his legs on the entire batlefield. Which as was strange, considering he was still human.

Dead corpses littered the land as far as the eye could see. The one who surpasses the abyssals, known formally as Priscilla, was motionless, filled to the brim with the blades belonging to dozens of Claymores; her head was probably somewhere under a pile of the organization's finest. The other abyssal's entrails were either digested, or spread across the war zone. It was the outcome of an epic finale, spearheaded by the Organization, the abyssals, and the rogue warriors.

For some reason, his blade hadn't came down on her yet, which angered the single braided combatant.

"If I could move I'd snatch that sword and do it myself." She said to Raki before switching attention to Clare, although she was struggling to even speak at this point, "It's not... *gurgle*... You... Darling, it's not you, it's me really. You got away and that doesn't sit well with me."

Raki was silent. Clare's mouth said nothing, but the look in her eyes spoke meaningful words to him. They really didn't convey anything, as they were blank, empty, and emotionless. But the fact that he hadn't seen those eyes in seven years was what froze him. The fact that they looked straight dead into his eyes.

Her eyes brought back memories of the day that marked the beginning of his journey with the organization's number 4. The day his body, mind, and heart made a complete turn around. The beginning of his decent into insanity and obsession. Into a world dominated by the feeling of survival and vengeance. A world where he preferred not to think or feel.

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**_...Seven years ago, in the woods after his departure from Clare..._**

* * *

"How does it feel, boy?" Said the warrior, standing smugly with her sword drenched in the blood of three different victims.

Today was Ophelia's lucky day. Two awakened beings and a human. She imagined splitting that girl apart like a chef would split a fish, but first, there could be no witnesses. Not even an innocent, if insanely brave, little boy.

On the other hand, there was Raki. Sword in hand and eyes sharp with focus, he stood in front of her attempting to hold his own. He didn't respond to her question. Instead, he gritted his teeth and prepared to face death. So soon. So fast.

Ophelia creeped slowly towards the young swordsman. Inching closer ever so eerily. "Just give up. She's not coming back for you."

Raki let out a thunderous battle cry and charged forward throwing a single downward chop. She easily deflected such an attack. He followed with a flurry of wild slashes attempting to land at least one, but no matter how he tried, she dodged each with little effort.

The malevolent smile she sported was given meaning by his immense failure, much to his chagrin. Soon he felt the sharp pain of multiple lacerations across his body. Blood splattered the golden dandelions and the blades of grass, as well as her malicious visage.

"What are you fighting for? I can feel her not far away from here, she must think I'm following her still." The calm tone of her voice coupled with her senseless laughter sent waves of disgust down his spine. "This is simply wonderful. Resisting the urge to chop you into halves is good for my discipline. You two are just so, _marvellous_."

"What's this? Giving up already?"

That's it. He fell to his knees after dropping his sword. It wasn't that his will to fight had died, but his body was fading in and out of consciousness. It's over. Hopefully he and Clare will once again meet each other on the other side. Tears from his eyes pummeled the earth like rain from a storm cloud.

"Jeez, it's really no fun if you don't squirm helplessly."

A swift kick to the face sent him looking up at the sky. Blood and sweat flew upon impact, painting everything in sight. As if he didn't already have trouble breathing, what with the gasping and choking on various bodily fluids, a foot stomped on his chest and twisted from left to right.

The last thing he saw was the red stained teeth in her wicked grin, and those evil

eyes.

Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Claymore.

The Day of Decisions

Ophelia was in a league all by her lonesome, though it was hardly her fault. Not a single being alive truly cared for her, as she had no friends. An even smaller amount could find peace while being anywhere near her.

Furthermore, almost every creature she has ever made contact with feared her. The birds averted their course from the toxicity she exuded. Even the mightiest of Claymores turned their heads when they caught a glimpse of that smile she wore. A slight smile at times, mostly formal times. But when her senses were triggered it could change in a moments notice. One so maniacal. So psychotic. So repulsive to even the most iron willed..

Her back rested patiently against a stone pillar just on the outskirts of a small city, across from a small pond. Inside was her next assignment. To her left was an unconscious Raki, who had been out for the better part of two days. On a whim, or so she described it as, she chose to spare him his life. It wasn't out of pity, respect, or any normal human emotion; she couldn't really feel such things. The reason she kept him alive was to catch that girl. The girl with her idiotic aspirations. She would have to come looking for him because any moderately intelligent life form would've let him rot.

Two other Claymores accompanied her; two stiffly silent Claymores to be precise. Like all half-breeds, they attempted to mask the uneasy vibes they felt. It was of no use, though. Ophelia was used to the situation, so naturally she continued with her down time.

In her boredom she looked down to the ants marching past her feet to pass the time. They carried clips of leaves and other objects to and from a general direction, one leaving and one coming. It intrigued her. How creatures so weak and insignificant could be so well structured. They've been known to give their lives without hesitation for the sake of the colony. It made her laugh aloud hysterically.

Her laughter was enough to spark a reaction from one of the other Claymores."Just what's so funny to you?" Said the one with the half eaten apple in one hand. Apparently she hadn't taken a bite since Ophelia arrived, explained by the dark bruises that covered the apple.

"Oh nothing. It's just these ants, you see," replied Ophelia as she stomped on the line they walked, "Their existence amuses me. A pathetic way to live really. Everyday, walking extreme distances and facing certain death, despite nature giving them such minuscule bodies." She continued to step on each individual ant. Trying to snuff out any one that might not truly be dead.

The blonde looked confused. "Excuse me?"

"Why the world has allowed them to multiply to such numbers really makes me angry. So I take great pleasure in mashing every little miserable one of them I can see. I'd even go as far as to finding the colony and destroying every tunnel with my bare hands. So whenever I crush their squishy little insides, I imagine them screaming as they panick. That's what's so funny." Ophelia said with an eerie grin on her face.

"What the he..." The confused warrior tried to get a word out, but was swiftly interrupted by Ophelia.

The grin grew greater and wider, more sinister, gradually showing all of her teeth. "Shhhhhhhhhh," she said, "If you be really quiet, you can hear it. 'Help me ahhhh!" All the while a shadow cast upon her face. It contrasted greatly with those huge silver eyes. Prominently peering through the darkness that blanketed her features.

In the midst of her actions, a bone rattling crash was heard. Crumbling rock and brick, screaming men, women, and children all came from inside village. The sound was strong enough to stir Raki, causing her to remember his presence.

Her eyes watched the pond water ripple from the commotion. Waves pushed into one another trying to complete their course. The battle for space led to each row of water vibrating in a trance like motion. She watched as a large collection of liquid jumped into the air and crashed back into the pond, which gave her an idea.

Her hands hastily grabbed the wild hair of Raki's as he slept.

"Hey put the boy down!" Shouted the previously silent warrior, who's short cut hair and steely gaze was the foil that emphasized her curvaceous, feminine body. Unintentionally, her fists curled up and her back stiffened as she felt two silver irises peek past her figure. Ophelia paid no mind however. She simply ignored her and threw Raki into the pond.

His eyes opened shortly after he felt the water enter his nose and all other facial orifices, and he sunk down to the muddy bottom. The cloth on his pants brushing against the floor of the pool produced murky clouds. Liquids blurred his vision, but he kicked the ground beneath him with all his force despite it.

Because pushing against the pond was difficult for a groggy child, he thought to pry apart the water to make it easier. He felt the light through the blanket of green muddiness, inching closer to the surface.

Gasping heavily for air, he paddled towards the edge of the pond. It was too early for him to open his eyes thanks to how irritated they'd become by the dirty water. However, there were sounds of swords clashing just in front of him. He wanted to open his eyes to view the source so badly.

"Oh my, she's faster than expected!" Exclaimed the familiar and elated voice of a woman.

More clanks of metal were heard. As the seconds went by, the time in-between the noises grew shorter.

Finally, his eyes were able to see, but what he saw in front of him was terrifying. A huge awakened being stood tall, attacking and defending simultaneously. Inside of the monster's evil reptilian mouth were razor-sharp teeth. It was twice the size of each warrior, and its body was 4 times as wide. The arms were wide and long. Its legs were muscle-bound with spikes acting as armor.

Every strike thrown got deflected by its thick, shield like arms. Once an attack missed it would maliciously slash back at one of the assailants. This game played out until the woman with the short hair was stricken.

When she fell to her hands and knees, the other combatant exploded with fury. Long rubber-like appendages coiled across its arms, holding it in place. A roar was given, and the fight continued to grow even more gruesome. He noticed one of them was oddly inactive, though. The one with the single braid down her back.

She didn't do any attacking. She only jumped away from the monster's large free arm smashing down on her. Then, she turned around, and time moved in slow motion for that split second. He saw the elven ears that adorned the sides of her face. Those wicked eyes that looked cloaked in darkness. The splotches of blood on her lips, lips that formed an eerily satisfied smile. He saw Ophelia.

At this point he figured he had two options. Run and escape the creature, Ophelia, and any harm that could be done to him, or stick around and learn what happened before he got there. He weighed each choice heavily.

"Stop standing there! Do your job!" Shouted the struggling Claymore.

"Ahhh, but you two have such chemistry already. Maybe I should just hang back and let you handle it yourselves, hmm?" Ophelia retorted, with slight laughter in her tone.

Without warning, a huge flash of light emitted from the downed combatant. Grass and dirt flew in every direction. Blowing wind and crackling battered Raki's ears. It reminded him of Clare back at Rabona. The process of awakening. No Claymore could truly prevent its twisted grip on their soul. Sooner or later they all fall victim.

After looking closer he saw that the left half of her body was missing. At first glance, it was a good hit. But he didn't figure it was that good. On the ground around her was blood. Lots of thick red blood. Her muscle was visible as it rebuilt itself. Skin grew over exposed flesh like a wave of pale flowers blooming in a field of red carcasses.

However, before she could complete the regeneration she buckled down closer to the earth. The light flared and she looked strained; the others took notice as well. "No, no Deneve, don't give up! Your so close! Just hang in there a few more seconds!" Screamed the hysterical Claymore.

"I don't know. You sure she can make it? I mean, look at her. They should've never sent you two useless pieces of meat," Ophelia said calmly, "Your best attribute is that you can keep the awakened being off of me."

"Shut up! I knew we saw that symbol, I knew it. We should've never taken the job. We should've just listened to Miria." She sounded like she was going to cry.

Raki didn't know what to think. Twenty feet away there was a Claymore on the verge of awakening, Another five feet away was a battle between two strong opponents and passive being.

Those two choices didn't mean much anymore. He thought back to Rabona, to Clare. When she was on the cusp of humanity, she came back. She came back because of Raki's persistence.

Something in his heart woke up. It called to him. It told him not to sit on the sidelines. It told him to do the right thing. So he got out of the water, shook himself off, weathered the flying debris, and made his way closer to the prone person. Now he was in the middle of the action.

She couldn't stop the transformation. Her tears didn't stop the transformation. Instead, it only prolonged what she felt was the inevitable. He sprawled next to her quickly. Hoping not to catch the attention of Ophelia nor the awakened being. "Please God let this work." He said under his voice. He opened his arms and enveloped her. Holding on tight like back then. He wasn't going to let go.

Ophelia felt the change in atmosphere. She saw the trail of water leading to the scene.

Time passed by. Nobody made much movement. The awakening Claymore started to calm. Increasingly, these things agitated Ophelia.

This didn't sit well with her. All this acting she did, all the impulses. They would all mean nothing if she didn't get to slice apart the desired amount of limbs. Purposeful acts should have a purposeful outcome. Otherwise, there would've been no point to even agreeing to take this mission.

"Ugh. What an unfortunate turn of events." She said, readying her blade. Fingers gripping the hilt. In a quick and powerful movement she swung the huge sword upwards.

When the head of the monster rolled into Raki's view, he wasn't shocked. He's long since grown accustomed to the slaying of Yoma. The shocking thing was that Ophelia sat by idly with full knowledge of how weak it truly was. She could have killed it in one blow minutes ago.

"Deneve! Are you alright?" Said the woman covered in Yoma blood after running over to help her friend to her feet.

"I'm not sure. I think," her friend replied, "I think that, were it not for this boy here, I would've been next in line." Both she and the blood stained silver coated Claymore looked at him. His eyes wide from astonishment.

"Hey, I remember him. He's that boy Clare carried around." The blood on her face smeared with every word. She looked at Ophelia, who was just sitting there on that corpse. Hands clutched together in her lap over her crossed legs. Listening to their conversation, yet anxiously probing the air with her super human yoki senses. She looked back at Raki and said, "No freaking way."

"My name is Deneve, and that is Helen. Thank you for your help. I apologize for my friends' rude behavior, however, we do need to leave as soon as possible. We'll give Clare the word about your current whereabouts. Come on Helen." Said the previously wounded soldier, making her way opposite of Raki and Ophelia.

"Wait! You're just going to leave me here like that?" Raki said chasing after them.

"We didn't bring you here. She did." Helen said. She pointed toward Ophelia, eliciting a smile from her. "There's nothing we can do."

"I'm with Clare remember?"

The smile never left Ophelia's face. Complimenting her heart piercing gaze. "No you're not boy, you're with me. And if those two think they can take you then I will forcefully protect my property." Dust flew from under her feet, caused by her tiny display of Yoki.

He couldn't believe it. She had the audacity to say something like that to him. "I'm not going with you. I hate you for what you've done to us." Raki said sternly through inaudible whimpers. Tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Nothing Ophelia said could take away what she'd forced him endure. Because of her he split up with Clare in the first place. There's no way she could make him follow her.

"What I've done to you? You know, I saved you, you could've died back there."

Maybe she didn't get the point. In his mind, this was all her fault. Instead of responding to her, he just followed Helen and Deneve. She doesn't deserve the satisfaction of attention.

However, being the quick witted person she usually is, Ophelia easily thought of something that would grab his interests. "Look boy, If you don't come with me I will have no reason not to find your 'Clare' and choke her with her own intestines." She said with threatening intent.

The two other Claymore's grabbed their swords, but Ophelia noticed them and quickly shut them down. Using the reasoning that there was nothing they could do to stop her from doing as she pleased, whether they were weakened by battle or not."As for you two, this event will be nothing but a distant dream. Understand? The short-haired one must have passed her limits long ago for her to resort to such a way of regeneration. That essentially makes her an awakened. Much like that 'Clare'. Usually I wouldn't even entertain the likes of you to this type of chat before chopping you up, but I need you to tell Clare that I have him. Now go. Unless you think you can take me?"

"So what is it. Be at my side, effectively 'protecting' your precious Clare," She said before the smile grew to insane dimensions and a dark shadow shrouded her features, "Or refuse and let her die a painful, agonizing death by my bare hands, after I slay these two idiots of course. Raki was it? Just imagine the things we could do together, Raki." Her attention focusing back on the subject at hand.

She bathed in the mortified look on Raki's face. Torn between the two options. Neither of which were favorable.

"Are you imagining yet?"

He slowly nodded, shaking and jittering in an uncontrollable manner.

"Stupendous. Now, imagine me cutting those two down. Do you see it? That crimson nectar that you can't get anywhere else."

He nodded once more after looking at the two.

"Now imagine me taking my hand and plucking out Clare's eyeballs like two plump red berries. You can stop that reality. It's in your hands."

He looked down at his hands and visualized them being covered in blood. Ophelia was definitely a crafty master of persuasion. Impressively smithing words to stir other's emotions and manipulate their actions. But he knew that she was also as serious as one could get. Protect Clare and her friends, or wait on a miracle. It wasnt really a fair choice.

"You have ten seconds."

"Nine"

"Eight."

"Seven."

"Six."

To add to the drama of the scene, she stood up and turned around. Beginning to walk opposite of them. Looking over her shoulder. "...Fiiiiiiiivvve." It sounded almost like a song.

Rubbing the tears that tried to manifest themselves from the bottom of his eyes, he finally relented. "I'll go... *sniff*... but you have to promise not to hurt anyone else."

"Sorry. I'm afraid I can't do that. But if it makes you feel any better, I'd be inclined to admire your idiotic bravery were I a fool. Now come this way and take my hand." She said, reaching her hand out for him to grab. After he walked up, they set off in the opposite.

Before they could leave shouting distance Helen yelled out to him. She said, "Stay strong kid! We'll find Clare, and then we'll find you! You need to stay brave!"

Thinking back to this day, they all left knowing that words can only mean so much.


End file.
